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jimlingss · 10 months

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two years!! :D it’s been two years since my final curtain call and seven years since Jimlingss began! Seven years!!! Now that’s a crazy yet meaningful number!

Hello to everyone reading this message :D hopefully you remember me (it’s ok if you don’t) and for those who care, hopefully this is a treat! just a quick update on my life — I successfully completed my first year of law school and what a whirlwind it’s been.

I’ve had so many ups and downs in the past year and I honestly feel like I’ve changed a lot. like evolved from pichu to pikachu. It was my first time moving away from home, away from my parents, and making so many friends. it’s been 20% bitter and 80% sweet. overall, I feel like I’ve learnt so much about myself and became a lot more stable in who I am.

school is hard but completely manageable. luckily, I don’t think my choice was wrong. there are days I quite enjoy what I’m learning. I got 2 years left in the game. soon (hopefully) I’ll be making the big bucks $$$ and I’ll be able to fund my sugar baby dreams (except I’ll also be my own sugar mommy). Although my dating life is as stale as always with 0 movement, I’ve become close with a handful of folks that I hold dearly to my heart. guess I’m in my friendship arc hahahaha

funny enough, I actually came back to this blog out of my own volition 2 weeks ago and re-read some of my stories. I feel so nostalgic. some of my stories really slap ngl. anyway, I really miss creative writing so much. Fortunately, there’s a few extracurriculars at school that allow me to write creatively so it’s somewhat of an outlet for me. it’s not fully satisfying but it’s something!!

I regularly come back to tumblr to check messages and do plagiarism checks lol. Speaking of which, I’ll take this time to answer some messages in my inbox.

unfortunately, i don’t have any socials that anyone can follow me on. my socials are pretty private and only the people who i’m close to, I follow and vice versa. but no worries because I will always come back to this blog to do a yearly update so you’ll hear from me! I will satiate your curiosity if you’re every curious about what I’m up to!!

for anyone who ever messages me compliments to my stories and/or missing my presence, no worries, I read them all :) your messages and feedback is never lost! it’s very sweet and always warms my heart.

if you can’t reach my masterlist, it’s here lol

I’ve kind of fallen off my fic reading game so if you ask me if I know a specific fic, I won’t be much of help unfortunately ://

if my fics ever help you through hard times, then I’m super glad!!! life can undoubtably be downright terrible. life can really really suck (understatement). but I think it’s comforting to know that everyone at some point thinks the same. it’s a universal sentiment - and in that, you’re not alone.

anyway, that’s it for now! you’ll hear from me again!

I’ll be back! And I hope you will too! :>

#also more updates I guess - I did indeed travel to Japan this year!#it was a blast #in terms of the book writing process #my brain has not been operating in that way so I still am at a standstill #I actually had a dream recently that I couldn't even write a poem #hahaha my book writing dreams haven't died tho - I'LL DO IT ONE DAY #on another note - I haven't been keeping up with BTS that much #other than knowing that Jin and Hoseok have headed off to the army #which imo is a good thing cause that makes us one day closer to an ot7 album again #also Jimin's solo slaps #Like Crazy and Alone are on my playlist woooo #what bangers #I hope everyone has been doing well #I am manifesting success and money and love for everyone who reads this WOOOOOOOOOO #Jimlingss

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charmac · 2 months

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They’re not allowed to read fanfic? Darn, I kind of assumed Rob found your Twitter handle from reading your fic since he didn’t seem to do anything else on twitter when he followed you

So it comes down to the basic idea of copyright. It’s not illegal or technically even banned, but since RCG are creators, writers, producers, etc. on Sunny and not just actors, it’s really a dicey area for them.

The copyright laws/legality of fanfiction is actually really interesting, there’s a long, messy modern history of fighting for the right to publish and protect fanfiction from studios and/or creators claiming copyright infringement. This use to be a huge issue where authors would send cease and desists to websites like Fanfiction.net to take down all fanfiction of their work. OTW (Ao3) kind of spearheaded the right for fanfiction to exist apart from what it's derived from. The T standing for Transformative argues that because fanworks ‘transform’ the content they are based off, they are exempt from copyright law, as long as there’s no profit. So we cannot find ourselves in legal trouble for publishing fanfiction. As long as it's transformative (aka you're not just republishing source material), it's new/original content.

So that means fanfiction kinda has its own protections in return. As long as you're not profiting off of your work, you have a right to claim that your fanfiction and the ideas that are new/original belong to you. Which means if there is ever any proof that a creator read your work and then a later episode (or sequel, book, etc.) reflected anything you wrote that was not already in the source material prior to that, it can get very messy, in that there may be grounds for you to claim they profited off of your work. So most creators (writers especially) avoid reading fan works.

You can see why for a show like Sunny they might be especially careful reading anything, since there’s so much you can do in that show. If RCG have an idea for something as simple as The Gang Goes Camping, for example, but they’ve previously seen or read a fan work that hit that plot they’d be pretty inclined to never make the episode.

The basic idea being that you don’t want to hinder what you can in good conscience, with no legal issues, write, so you avoid fanworks all together.

I'll give you an example based on what happened with Charlie: he was in public and surrounded by fans and one fan hands him his spec script, or plot idea for an episode. If he had read it, all of a sudden whatever was on that paper becomes a legally grey issue in the writers room. If they liked the plot idea or dialogue (or whatever was on that paper) and end up using something in an actual episode, what claim does the fan now have? Everyone at the event could potentially tell you that this fan contributed to the show, so it's best not to read it. Don't risk ruling out a plot line you may have wanted, don't risk accidentally stealing from a fan, don't risk the show ending up in a legal battle.

Also, first anon: I still don't know why or have any solid proof as to how Rob found my account, but at the time he followed me I did have a 5hr old Tweet with ~15k likes reposting one of his TikToks and calling him the cringiest person alive. I didn't tag him or name him, he didn't like it, or interact with it or any of the replies or literally any other Tweet that day, but I have to imagine he saw it and that's why he followed me. Degradation kink overrules everything else.

#ask #fanfiction #what about aus? :)#could my plot ever happen? not until they invent time machines..#nah its still an issue i think they'd avoid bc dialogue and other potential plots #dennis is circumcised bc the first ever fanfic was about him being uncut and they couldnt risk the infringement #i made that up tbc... there were no fanfic claims back then #that fic was and is real tho #imagine the first thing anyone writes about your show is about your dick anatomy #well thats on brand for them im sure rob had a blast finding that

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goatsghost · 9 months

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i was going to make a “blue beetle spoilers without context” post but it’s literally just spy kids. the whole movie is just spy kids

#blue beetle #blue beetle movie #blue beetle spoilers #blue beetle 2023 #mine #SPOILERS IN THE TAGS #like the bug plane and the exploding gum and the outdated ‘futuristic’ tech #the spy watch and the cool glove and the uncle who builds cool shit #like everything i loved about spy kids (genuinely) was in this movie #also the giant suits ofc; like spy kids 3 obviously how did i forget that lol #i’d say the writing was kinda ehh but it was a fun movie !#like….. a solid 6.5/10 lol #i was filled with so much joy whenever his little sonic blasts went off tho #like. i was giddy in my seat. i love the dumb fight scenes; which is not something i say about action movies often

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whumble-beeee · 5 months

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The First Day of the Rest of Your Life pt. 2

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping

Cont'd from Part 1

CW: disabled whumpee, flashbacks (ptsd), past captivity references, tied up, knives, gun

* * * * * * * * [First impressions are extremely important when taking a hero hostage, whether you're nemeses who have fought countless times, or whether this is your first time formally meeting the hero. These first impressions will set the mood for the entirety of your and your captive's time together, so make sure to think long and hard about what initial impression you want to give off to the hero; do you want to be suave, cool, and calculating? Silly, coy, and unpredictable? Or maybe violent and dangerous, one not to be crossed or trifled with. The choice is up to you, you dastardly villain, you!

And if you're having trouble crafting a persona that will strike fear and invite obedience in the heart of your captive, just remember that above all else, you are the one in control. Have confidence in yourself and project that to your hostage, and the rest will follow suit!]

* * * * * * * *

All air left the room.

“I, a-ah–...” Stan couldn’t take his eyes off the blade cradled in the mercenary’s hand. His breath fell ragged as he forced his eyes away from the knife and into the gaze of the man holding it. And smiled. Hopefully, it didn’t look too much like a grimace. “I don’t like kni-ives…”

“Really…”

The mercenary slowly ambled up until he literally blocked out the light coming from the center of the room, and gently pushed the sharp end of the knife up under Stan’s chin.

The world went blurry for a moment as Stan tilted his chin up to accommodate, and the blade just went up with it, until Stan’s vision tunneled directly into the man’s eyes. He couldn't move.

He knew those eyes.

Staring down at him over the barrel of a revolver.

The bounty hunter glanced him up and down, before meeting his stupefied gaze again with an almost pitying grin. “This is gonna suck for you then.”

He whiffed the knife out and flipped it around in his hand as he circled behind the chair, barely nicking Stan’s chin with the razor-edge as it slid out from its place under his throat. The small sting of the cut was enough to bring the world crashing back to him.

Stan blinked. “Hey! Hey–... don’t do– Where– where, uh… Where are you going?”

“Behind you.”

“No– no shit, really?” he retorted, voice still embarrassingly shaky. The bounty hunter disappeared from his line of sight. “I meant– I mean what’re you–”

Stan gasped as the ropes tightened around his stomach.

“Hey, hey! Stop! what’re you doing?!”

He immediately balled up his fists and tried to thrash away unsuccessfully for what felt like the thousandth time since he woke up, all the while attempting to twist around enough to see what was going on behind him.

“Cálmate, chiquito.” The ropes vibrated lightly. “I'm just cuttin’ the ropes.”

Stan stopped dead in his tracks. “What? Why?”

The bounty hunter’s voice took on that playful lilt Stan was already getting tired of. “I mean, I was just gonna put you on a leash in the corner, so you can actually move around a bit, but if you want to stay tied to the chair for some ungodly amount of time…”

Stan’s mind completely skipped over the leash part. He had to get out of this chair. “No, no, I don’t!”

“Really? Not sure I’m convinced, you seemed super panicked just now–”

“I wasn’t panicking!”

“Nah? Then I’m sure you’ll stay just as calm when I do this…”

The bounty hunter snatched his hand and strained it up against the twine. Stan instinctively flinched.

“Hey, what–!”

A prick on the top of his hand. Stan froze. Another prick. His heart rate spiked. The cool metal of the knife broke the skin a third time, longer, deeper this time, gliding through the skin barrier, stinging. His vision tunneled. Cool metallic threads shot through the top of his mouth, and he could swear he could feel the blood rushing from his brain and pooling down, down, down.

“Stop, STOP, PLEASE!!” He tried to break free, wiggle away from the knife and kick out and fight back against the man who was holding him hostage and tormenting him for no reason other than his own sick pleasure, but everything was starting to go dark and fuzzy and everything felt so hot, he was sweating, he was burning, he needed to get out now–

Stan's chair suddenly lifted and the entire thing spun around and landed hard back onto the floor with a clatter, accompanied by a fearful yelp. The bounty hunter’s hand moved from the top of the chair to the scruff of Stan’s neck, forcing Stan forward as he planted his knee on the seat of the chair between Stan’s legs and leaned on the unused armrests of the chair. Their faces were only inches apart. Stan strained to lean away, but just like the last million times, there wasn’t anywhere he could go. He sucked in a stilted breath.

“Y’know,” the hunter whispered as if he were sharing a damning secret between just the two of them. “If you’re gonna be all hysterical about it, I could just leave you right here…”

Stan’s breath stuttered. The world was just the two of them. Focus on the now. Don’t pass out. “I– I kno-ow. Please don’t. Please.”

He pushed his little sister Chloe further behind his back and stood his ground. His sister pressed her face into his side.

He glared at those eyes before, snarled at them.

He felt dizzy, he couldn’t breathe, and more than anything he wanted to spit in the bounty hunter's face. He found that the best he could do was stare up at the bounty hunter with a stunned, blurry gaze as he tried to fight off the cotton that blanketed his mind.

“People get tied to the chair because they’re panicky and I don’t want them to hurt themselves, because they’re my responsibility. Like you were doing when you woke up. You were screaming and thrashing around, did you know that?”

“N-no…”

“I know you didn’t know.” His eyes dark brown eyes almost seemed to glitter red. Stan felt a visceral terror snaking up his gut for reasons he couldn’t explain. “That’s why you were tied to the chair. I’ll gladly keep you here if you keep struggling and being difficult, do you want that?”

The crackle of the walkie-talkie, the distorted voices.

“I think I found them.” The voice sealed his fate. “Uh… just– just one of them.”

The rope itched against his wrists. “No, pl-please don’t– Let me go.”

“I’m not sure I’m feeling so charitable anymore Stan, I gotta be honest. I think you should ask really nicely if you want me to untie you from this chair.”

He took a gasping breath, one he didn’t realize his body was screaming for. When had he stopped breathing? Where was he?

“Please un– uh, untie me from the chair”

The hunter nodded. “Alright, and?”

“I, uh... I would be so, so grateful?…” Stan tapered off with a squeak as his captor rolled his eyes at him and shook his head.

“No, no, look.” The hunter prompted. He squeezed the back of Stan’s neck. “You’re not going to…”

Why couldn’t he just pass out?

“I’m uh, I’m not going to… be panicky or, or difficult?…”

“Mhm, and?”

And?! He was already begging! What else did this guy want?!

Stan’s befuddlement must have shown on his face, because the hunter gave another hint with only the slightest annoyed groan: “What’re we gonna do instead?”

“Put me on a– a leash…” Stan felt his face burning red. He wanted to curl up into a little ball and rock himself until everything went away. He felt so small. He could never hide. “... in the corner…”

“And that’s a privilege because?��

“... you could just leave me in the chair. Captured.”

The hunter leaned back a bit and smiled. “There you go, you got there. Repeat it all back now.”

Stan squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a shaky breath, and breathed out some of the clouds dimming his mind. He forced his eyes to focus.

“Please untie me from the chair, I won’t be panicky or difficult and I know it’s a– a privilege–” The words almost caught in his throat. “– to be on a le-leash in the corner instead. Because you could just leave me in the chair. If you wanted. And you’re not… I– I– um, thank you…”

The hunter’s hand slid up from the neck of his shaking captive and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, that was good. Good job.”

Stan hated how much he relaxed at the praise. At how much effort it took to even jerk away from the petting.

Right up until the very large pocket knife entered his field of vision, heading straight for his stomach.

He screamed, wrenching his eyes shut and throwing himself as far back as possible, hoping he would just phase through the chair entirely and fall through the floor and be away from the horror show of agony that was sure to be his stomach now, away from this entire humiliating and hopeless situation, away from the flashbacks and the terror and the ropes and the captivity and the experiments and the pain–

Eventually, a realization broke through the frenzy that he wasn’t in screaming agony.

He wasn’t dying.

He was still here.

In fact, his restraints felt noticeably looser.

He tentatively opened his eyes to find a few of the ropes from his front now lay cleanly cut in his lap or hanging at his sides.

The bounty hunter chuckled into his hand, trying to hold it together. Then when he noticed his captive staring at him, he practically doubled over in a fit of laughter.

“Not gonna–” He had to look away, covering his mouth as a fit of giggles overtook his ability to speak. “Not gonna panic or be– be difficult, huh? No panic at all?”

Stan sputtered, ears red. How could he be laughing? “I– I– you– didn’t…! I– AUGH!”

His yell echoed through the room. He wanted to scream at the man, or at least run for the door now that he was technically free. But lashing out would get him nowhere, not here, not now.

He gave up on trying to speak and instead seethed while he worked at shaking off the rest of the ropes.

About half the tendril twisting around his stomach were still intact, so it took much more struggling than his dignity would have preferred to squirm out. He even tried to use his good knee to help nudge the ropes aside, since his wrists were still securely tied behind the back of the chair and useless. That didn’t really help.

But he managed, same as always.

“It's really not that funny.” Stan deadpanned as he finished working on the bindings and carefully lifted his bound wrists above the back lip of the chair.

The bounty hunter still hadn’t finished his giggle fit.

“Y'know, you're– you're really good at the whole, uh, submissive thing,” the mercenary snickered. “Suits you.”

A heavy ball knotted in the pit of his stomach. “What.”

“I mean, as soon as I got up in your face, you just stopped dead in your tracks and immediately got all cute and scared and agreeable.”

Stan clenched his teeth. He should cut through the twine tying his wrists right now and strangle this guy with how horrible–...

Wait… Did the mercenary even know Stan could still use his powers without his cane? He mentioned earlier that it was a shame Stan couldn’t use his powers without it, but he could.

Not very well. But it was better than nothing.

“I wouldn't have done that,” he growled. “If you hadn't decided it'd be fun to fuck with me and set off my fight or flight!”

“That wasn't fight or flight, bud, that was fawn.” The mercenary gave a condescending tilt of the head before holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“I’m just saying you'll probably do just fine as a prisoner. It is gonna be the rest of your life, all the better that it suits you well.”

“I don't–! It doesn't suit me, I-I'm not–” The bounty hunter nodded at him with false interest, patiently waiting for him to go on. Stan cried out in rage.

“Whatever! You're abusing your power over me for no reason!”

A pause. Both men stopped breathing for just a moment.

The mercenary’s gaze suddenly turned barely narrower and icy cold.

“I'm abusing my power?” He stepped forward, barely out of arms reach and absolutely towering over his captive.

“I could show you a real abuse of power, chiquito.”

Stan shot up to his feet with a loud stomp to finally match the mercenary. He was still a solid foot shorter than the man, but it still got the point across.

He hoped.

The movement also served another purpose: he’d slammed his feet down hard enough to feel the reverberations throughout his body, just hard enough to create enough force to transfer up through his fingers into a very small point. A point just fine enough to slice through the bindings of his wrists.

He was finally, finally unbound.

He still held his arms behind his back.

“How dare you.”

The mercenary hummed in surprise, curious where this outburst would lead. He nodded for Stan to go on.

As if Stan needed his permission to go on. He took a step forward, and the man actually stepped back in turn.

“I don't know who you think you are, but if you can think you can just hold me captive like this and talk to me like this and expect me not to fight back, you’ve got an entire ‘nother thing coming!” Stan yelled.

“I’m not gonna just sit back and let you mess with me because you think it’s funny! I’m not going to sit there and let you do whatever you want to me, and I’m not going to let you, or whoever you work for, or anyone else for that matter, keep me captive for the rest of my life! Not gonna happen! I’m going to escape, and then I’ll find you and everyone you work for, and make every single one of you wish you had never been born. Got that?”

And for a moment, everything was still.

Stan’s labored breathing echoed throughout the room. He’d backed up the mercenary several steps in his tirade, much to the screeching protests of his bad knee. More surprisingly, the mercenary no longer looked down on him with that condescending smile.

Instead, his eyes quickly shot up and down Stan’s body, before meeting Stan’s scowling gaze with his own challenging stare.

Right before he took one more step back and slid his hands comfortably into his pockets.

“Well, if you’re going to try to run, now would probably be the best time.”

Stan gawked at the man. Then shook his head out. He must have been hearing things.

“What?”

“You said you were going to escape, yeah? You’re not gonna let me hold you captive, you’re gonna escape and take revenge?”

Stan had to suppress the urge to go back on his own words. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m about to put a manacle on your ankle and you'll be chained to the corner over there,” he nodded over his shoulder, to the corner of the room farthest away from the door.

“You’re more or less free right now. Now would be the best time. You wanna try your luck?”

“But– you– you’re standing right here! You could just reach out and grab me!”

“That’s how it’ll always be, runt.”

A chill bolted from his head all the way down his spine.

“Uh…” his voice shook again. He hadn’t prepared for this. What was the endgame here? “Aren’t you gonna be mad?”

“Oh, I’ll be furious.” His dark eyes glittered the smallest sparkles of crimson, a light smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“And when I catch you and bring you back, you’ll have to deal with the consequences of that. Can’t say it’ll be pretty either. So you gonna try your luck, or nah?”

Stan turned to look at the door. Then back to the mercenary. His heart pounded against his ribcage, and he could already feel the quick in and out of his breaths making his brain feel buzzy and light.

He looked to the door again. How far could he even get without his cane? Certainly not as far as someone who didn’t have a dud for a knee.

He looked to the mercenary. Could he even fight him off with such limited use of his magic? Did it even matter that he had already cut his wrists free?

His eyes shifted once more to the holster on the man’s belt. What about that? Was he willing to risk a gunshot wound in an escape attempt that had almost no chance of working?

The cold metal barrel of the gun bit into his windpipe.

He never felt so frozen before.

A rough hand grabbed him, shoved him forward.

He screamed for help.

No one came.

His jaw clenched so hard it may as well have shattered. His eyes burned. He just wanted to go home.

“No.”

The hunter raised his eyebrow. “Come again?”

“I ca-an’t–” his voice cracked. He wished he could hide the way his chest heaved and his face contorted to try and hold back the tears. He wished he could hug himself as some sort of self-comfort. But he kept his hands firmly clasped behind his back. “I can’t.”

The mercenary nodded lightly with a small hum. At least that stupid grin hadn’t made a reappearance.

“All right then, come here. You uh, need help walking?”

He turned around to walk to the corner of the room, motioning for Stan to follow.

Stan didn’t follow.

He ran.

* * * * * * * *

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy

#whump #whump writing #hero whump #defiant whumpee #kidnapping whump #heroes and villains #captivity whump #(un)official guide #angst #referenced captivity #sorry this took so long to get out #trying to figure out a good set schedule #had a blast writing this tho #theres so much lore im trying not to dump rn #also the bounty hunter does have a name #im trying so hard to get to the part where its revealed so i can actually use the dang thing lmao

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good-beanswrites · 8 months

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I skewed too far from the original request, (so you'll be getting another one with Es and this prompt soon) but for now have this 😂 It's based on that one sprinkler minigram, and uses @iris-drawing-stuff 's raincoat ideas for the other prisoners :3

When Es was told their duties would include watching over ten prisoners, they had expected escape attempts, lies and trickery, fights, or breakdowns. The reality was much worse. They had to keep ten morons out of mundane trouble. And the job was nonstop.

Today’s problem was a bit more intense than the usual stubbed toes and squabbles. Es had been surprised by the culprit behind the day’s stupidity -- after all, Shidou was usually the one stopping the others from causing mischief.

Though he would never admit to anything, Es was able to put the pieces together themself: Amane makes an offhand comment about missing the seasons. Someone with good handwriting anonymously requests a child’s raincoat and galoshes. (Unrelated, there was an issue with the request, and a dozen animal-themed raincoats had been delivered to the prison.) Then, burn marks appear around the sprinklers in Shidou’s cell, just the size of his little lighter. It wasn’t hard to see that he was the one that set off the major malfunction which was currently soaking every inch of the prison in sheets of freezing water.

At least they had extra raincoats.

Es made their way to the panopticon, toolkit in hand. They had swapped their cape out for one of the raincoats. They’d turned it inside out in an attempt to hide the animal features. It made them feel more mature, which was necessary seeing as they had no experience with fixing sprinklers. As it turned out, neither did the prisoners.

Two chairs had been precariously stacked within Shidou’s cell. Kotoko, wrapped in a wolf raincoat, stood on her toes at the top. She twisted the valve this way and that. Standing directly underneath, she avoided the brunt of the downpour. Kazui and Shidou stood at the base, one squeezed into a fox coat, the other, a shark. They both crossed their arms, offering Kotoko all of their observations and tips and suggestions. She ignored everything. It didn’t deter them from ‘helping.’

“Comin’ in hot!”

A black cat-clad Yuno hurried around the corner with a shout. Es stepped out of her way. She carried an armful of towels to stop up some of the deepening puddles. Mikoto flew by in the opposite direction to do the same. His dog ears flopped as he ran. Amane stood near the guard’s tower, entirely enveloped in her frog raincoat. She stood in perfect, calm silence, as if she were above all this nonsense. Es couldn’t agree more. Next to her, Muu openly sobbed within her calico cat coat.

No one seemed to notice as Es cleared their throat. “That’s enough,” they tried, “I can handle it from here.”

Kotoko didn’t even glance their way. “Let me just try one more thing. I’ve almost got it.”

“I’m telling you, it just needs a little twist,” Kazui urged her.

Es was bumped aside as Fuuta dragged another set of chairs into the cell. His raised voice was undermined by the mouse raincoat pulled over his head. “I told you, you’re doing it all wrong! Lemme at it.”

“I’m serious. As warden, I --”

Their protests were drowned out by Mahiru’s voice from behind. They turned to find two bunny raincoats bouncing along.

“This way, Haruka ~!” With much enthusiasm and grand hand gestures, Mahiru directed him to set down some industrial sized buckets at regular intervals. “Perfect…” They quickly began to fill.

Shidou pointed. “Right there, can you move that piece?”

“I already told you,” Kotoko grit her teeth. “I don’t need to touch that.” She wobbled atop the chair.

Fuuta had climbed onto his own stack. “You guys aren’t fucking listening.” He reached out, but Kotoko swatted his hands away. “Hey!” It was his turn to teeter.

“Yuno, I need more towels, stat!” At Mikoto’s urgent call, Yuno came sprinting past.

Es opened their mouth to stop her, but it was too late. Her foot slid through a puddle. With a cry, she was thrown flat on her face.

Mahiru gasped. Trying to run to her aid, one of her uniform straps hooked on a bucket near Muu and Amane’s feet. She yanked it forward.

The splash rose up and soaked their uncovered legs. Muu sobbed harder.

Haruka, of course, wanted to help. He immediately ran into another bucket, sending him stumbling and splashing to the ground.

“Oi, Yuno! I said I needed another towel!”

Kazui made another comment on the sprinkler. Fuuta leaned in real close to get a better look. With a huff, Kotoko tugged on the valve. It jammed around so that the wide spray converged into a single, high-pressure stream.

The jet aimed directly at Fuuta’s face.

His sputtering cursing followed him the long way to the ground. Shidou and Kazui leapt to catch him as he fell. Both miraculously forgot that their shoes rested in several inches of water, because their arms flailed wildly for each other and the fallen chairs as they slipped.

Es’ frown twitched.

“Idiots. They’re all idiots.”

#milgram #es #and everyone else but i wont tag them all #(i hope you dont mind the tag - i just love those raincoats ;-;)#normally id say 'eh close enough' but i reeeally want to stick to the original request which involves them all genuinely having fun #its what they deserve :')#no matter how much fun *I* had writing this theyre not quite having a good time here asdfsdf #(honestly tho - this just popped out and i had such a blast with it that i didnt stop haha!)#you know that one pose dads do when theyre 'supervising' you fixing something #hmm i do wonder what animal es' coat was originally -- i couldnt decide on anything i liked #i wouldve done a rabbit (for jackalope) but two others had that already #just try to ignore the horrible implications with amanes experience with water/rain 💀💀💀 shes okay here i promise !!!!#no fuutas were harmed in the making of this drabble #whats that one tweet - 'he died but hes okay'#drabbles

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pasiphile · 9 months

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Havin' a lil mormor renaissance in my inbox and notes. It's fun, it's kinda like bumping into an old comfy sweater in the back in your closet and finding it still fits.

... a very kinky, unhealthily codependent sweater.

#I'm mostly trying to find the fun in writing again #Most of the writing I managed to do the last year or so was editing already written things #So I kinda need the fresh air of writing from scratch apparently #Not sure if it's working yet but it is a change so that's good #And my imagination has fired up again #Also! Seeing a lot of usernames that are a blast from the past #(NGL tho the ones that go 'I read tvd when I was twelve and I'm out of uni now!' always make me go a little yikes)#I'm writing stuff!#About me

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inkykeiji · 2 months

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IK he probably isn't your type but there's something about Adam... 🤭

okay u are right that he isn’t reaaaally my type, BUT!!! i love adam i found him so hilarious (because i feel like we all know or have an adam in our life) and i do unfortunately have a thing for (fictional) toxic jackasses so!!! i kinda get where ur coming from. i’m really hoping adam is in hell now—like resurrected in hell the way pentious was in heaven—i’d love to see his redesign + i’d love to see how he fairs in hell >:) i might fall for him pretty hard if this ends up happening

i also saw this piece of fan art and almost choked on my tongue soooo,,,, adam has potential, i think,,, (also this one too omg??? adam?????)

#adam was so funny tho #like he's such a douche #but he had me giggling every time #he does remind me of someone i know tho AHAHAHA #but anyway #i get u anon #i totally get you #i think adam is a potential suitor for inkykeiji dot tumblr dot com #i love his fuckboi ways #he'd be a blast to write and i think he is ripe for angst as well #muahahaha >:)#i hope ur having an awesome thursday!!#stay safe n drink water <3 #inky.bb #inky.hazbin #clari gets mail

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constantvariations · 10 months

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I remember someone saying "there's no such thing as a good racism allegory" and it's been bouncing around in my head for a while. I'm someone who typically thinks anything can work if given the right circumstances, but then I really started thinking about it and I believe they're right

Because if you want to talk about racism, you should just talk about racism

(This is unpolished and ramble-y, so strap yourselves in)

Racism is deeply ingrained into our society, no matter where you live. Imperialism and colonialism has ensured that no corner of Earth has been left untouched. Choices from hundreds of years ago are still being felt today. There's practically no end to the discussion of its effects on the world and its people

So, why should anyone feel the need to dress it up in cat ears?

I've consumed a lot of media where writers have consciously echoed in part some aspect of racism in their fantasy story: Bright 2017, Dragon Age, RWBY, the MCU, Harry Potter, Detroit: Become Human, etc. The biggest thing they have in common is that the narrative is told to side with the victims, but it somehow always ends up against them

It always sides with the status quo

It's confusing, maddening even, because the narrative oft goes out of its way to show how horrible the system is and how these folk don't deserve their treatment, so why are we going back to normal as if it's a good thing? Why are the people actively working to improve the system decried as annoying at best and monstrous at worst?

Then you look at the people who write these storylines. The beliefs they hold, the people they vote for, which charities and organizations they give to, and it all makes sense. Centrists (at best) trying to look progressive are the ones who need to dress racism up in cat ears and rainbow freckles. They set aside the long, brutal histories and crushing systemic realities to play pretend that racism is Not That Bad and is only done by Those Bad Individuals

That's why Velvet's ears are tugged instead of culled. That's why the Mantle drunkards say mean things to Blake instead of attempting to assault her. That's why everything surrounding the SDC's labor practices is so vague as to be useless while the biggest evidence of their malice is hand-waved away by a writer who says the victim "had it coming" as if someone can deserve being branded by being too much of a brat

These stories aren't meant to make the audience question why our society works off the bloodied backs of the exploited or demands we take good, hard looks at ourselves and how we've been duped into believing so much garbage about entire swathes of people. They're meant to satisfy the people who only feel bad that these things are happening because they (white folk) look like the bad guys. It's a self-congratulatory wank about how "I'm not like THOSE guys, therefore I'm a good person!"

And then there's the characters meant to convey this story in the first place: always inoffensive, mostly aimless, "not like the other girl" types that pander to that delicate palate. Blake - a conventionally attractive, pale skinned girl in fashionable clothes - used to be passionate about equality but only in the right way, and demonizes anyone who does not conform to this mindset despite having no reasoning to back it up while never once demanding better of the privileged people around her even when they do racially insensitive things

The biggest downfall of these racial allegories, be they about cat girls or orcs or elves or robots, is that they do something that marginalized folk have been forced to endure since the dawn of time: literal dehumanization. There are tangible differences between humans and whatever the allegory is, which undermines the very fundamental fact that black/asian/queer/neurodivergent/disabled/whatever folk are unapologetically, undeniably, exceedingly human. By dressing up their plights in cat ears or spottled blue skin, you're creating theater not for the people who actually live through these struggles as a means of connecting with them and providing them a safe outlet for their feelings, but giving the people who benefit from passively allowing the system to enforce said struggles a pat on the head for not being the grand wizard

I don't really know where I'm going or how to end this, so I'll just sign off with if you're going to talk about racism, just talk about racism

#rwde #like i said this is pretty all over the place bc i know what im Feeling but not how to word it yknow? so hopefully i got it somewhat across #i am whiter than sour cream tho so if i got anything wrong DO NOT HESITATE to blast me like team rocket #this did get me thinking abt star trek specifically the ep w the dudes who are black on one side and white on the other #and they hate each other because the colors are on different sides #that might be an okay allegory since its so on the nose its dancing on your sinuses #but its not my place to say one way or another so who knows #ive only seen people play detroit but holy fuck david cage should be tossed into a pit for that absolute nonsense #this dude had robots standing in the back of busses and quoting mlk jr but had the audacity to claim it wasnt the 60s civil rights allegory #this is just a really weird thing to happen over and over again #can they just not connect w people of color or whatever their target allegory is?#its almost always black folk tho james camerons avatar had LoAdS of fun w that indigenous parody #and theres like. never any sensitivity readers to double check this shit or the target group actually doing the writing #who said 'white people love talking about race as if they got something to say'? bc that should be the slogan for every one of these deals #yeehaw ig :?

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